“Have any of the assassins been caught?” asked Lord Oktar.

“Not yet,” replied the marshal, “but I have spoken with the neighboring clans, and we have all agreed to try to capture one.”

“Well, I don’t think a lone murderer is going to take on an entire corte of troops,” shrugged the lord. “That would be suicide.”

“You are probably correct,” nodded the marshal, “but I will keep you protected regardless. Why are you not returning directly to the estate?”

“Emperor Marak is still having trouble convincing some of the clans to send their troops to Khadoratung for training,” explained Lord Oktar. “He asked me to visit some of the recalcitrant lords and convince them of the need to join together.”

“Why are they refusing?” frowned the marshal. “Emperor Marak has the blessing of the Lords’ Council in this endeavor. Do they think the battle with the Jiadin is the end of our troubles?”

“Some do not see any troubles on the horizon,” conceded Lord Oktar. “They are demanding proof of the Emperor’s warnings.”

“How can he prove anything to them before the invasion is actually launched?” responded the marshal. “Must they see the armies of the enemy to realize the danger that they are in?”

“Some would probably try to find an innocent explanation even then,” sighed Lord Oktar. “I do not have much hope of success for this mission, but I promised Emperor Marak that I would try my best.”

“How long will you be away from the estate?” asked the marshal.

“Perhaps a week more,” shrugged the lord. “I do not plan to spend a great deal of time at any one estate. If they will not listen to my plea, I will leave for the next estate.”

“I want every precaution taken,” Marshal Berman demanded as he turned to the cortain beside him. “Lord Oktar is to be always surrounded by your men. Do you understand?”